Its been a rough few days. Sometimes I feel okay and motivated by holiday lists. Other times I feel my soul has collapsed into a new black hole in my chest. I feel like everything I thought and want is being sucked away, and I find myself hunched over. I have not found their words helpful. I don't know if I'll ever recover. They say their words were to help. I do hear what they said, repeated in my head over and over. .
I'm trying to try to figure out changes outlines in my surgeons book, "Back in Control". It seems an impossible task. I vacillate between fear that it won't work and anxiety of what it means if it does work.
I haven't made it much to the gym, part of step one. However my endurance is being worked out with painting for the new den, and doing more of the household tasks. Its nice not to cry while sorting laundry, or be so spent after making dinner that I need to rest while the family eats it. Laundry isn't a huge deal, and I rarely miss a meal because I need to lower my pain.
Point is, I am getting better physically.
So the photo is my attempt to capture the end result of a conversations with my awesome sister Annie. She has been by my side, talking or texting as the hole expanded. My answer, that has been one as mantra, came while sitting on the cold front porch, looking at the stars. Yes, a rare winter/fall clear night.
I had wished that Rachel in 5 years could let me know that this week wouldn't seem so soul crushing in the future. That the work would become easy, as easy and comfortable as eating gluten free (23 months without cheating, BTW). That someday the words and feelings would have purpose in my life that was bigger or better than it felt. That I would trust the people who said them. That the page I wrote them on wouldn't cut me like knives.
Until then, I keep repeating the words,
"Rachel, Breath. One day you will look ♥ back and this will make sense."
I'm trying to try to figure out changes outlines in my surgeons book, "Back in Control". It seems an impossible task. I vacillate between fear that it won't work and anxiety of what it means if it does work.
I haven't made it much to the gym, part of step one. However my endurance is being worked out with painting for the new den, and doing more of the household tasks. Its nice not to cry while sorting laundry, or be so spent after making dinner that I need to rest while the family eats it. Laundry isn't a huge deal, and I rarely miss a meal because I need to lower my pain.
Point is, I am getting better physically.
So the photo is my attempt to capture the end result of a conversations with my awesome sister Annie. She has been by my side, talking or texting as the hole expanded. My answer, that has been one as mantra, came while sitting on the cold front porch, looking at the stars. Yes, a rare winter/fall clear night.
I had wished that Rachel in 5 years could let me know that this week wouldn't seem so soul crushing in the future. That the work would become easy, as easy and comfortable as eating gluten free (23 months without cheating, BTW). That someday the words and feelings would have purpose in my life that was bigger or better than it felt. That I would trust the people who said them. That the page I wrote them on wouldn't cut me like knives.
Until then, I keep repeating the words,
"Rachel, Breath. One day you will look ♥ back and this will make sense."
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